


I Need Something (to kill me)

by LameAssPunkBoy



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Brief Mention of Blood, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Insomnia, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide, i wrote this in 20 minutes at like 3 am, im sorry, its also kinda bad, this is kinda sad, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 21:36:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LameAssPunkBoy/pseuds/LameAssPunkBoy
Summary: Tyler walks himself through his final hours.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really short vent fic, I'm sorry if it isn't the best but I was kind of rushed while writing it.

As I lay in my bed the clock burns into the back of my skull, and when I wake in the morning the people do too.

As I lay in bed at night and the clock strikes 12 I turn my head, reading the spherical timekeeper I sigh and roll back over tying my arms around the man I love so. The man with yellow hair and tree arms.

As I lay in bed at night and the clock strikes 1 I take pity on my seemingly worthless life. Taking the time to reflect I realize I've always been a figure of the shadows, never brave enough to confront the sun.

As I lay in bed at night and the clock strikes 2 I wonder how many times I'll re-live this night. I wonder how many hours of good sleep I'll get before I die.

As I lay in bed at night and the clock strikes 3 I find the man I love so stirring beside me, half awake lidded eyes and white teeth speak to me "Ty, If you're having that much trouble sleeping I can roll you a joint or pack a bowl or something." 

"I'm good," I say, but I don't mean it. I should've taken up his offer.

"You sure, man?" He places his hand in mine, both offering relief and starting a new burn. A burn of guilt.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Go back to sleep." 

Josh shrugs pecking my lips and rolling over. The burn of guilt grows hotter, he doesn't know. He has no idea.

As I lay in bed at night and the clock strikes 4 all I can do is think. I'm planning my escape, planning my freedom. I can already taste it.

As I lay in bed at night and the clock strikes 5 my feet pull me out of bed and stand me up pushing me to my closet. I get dressed in my favorite clothes, my last clothes.

To the bathroom, I walk grabbing my copy of the bible in the hall. I don't even know if I believe anymore, but I'd rather be saved than continue to burn. 

Setting the heavy book on the counter I open the cupboards and look. It takes a while, but I find it: the silver blade. 

As I kneel, my knees making contact with the tile, I stare at the back of my eyelids. In this position I say my final prayer, apologizing for my sins and asking for forgiveness. 

Bracing myself for the sting I walk the silver blade down the streets of my wrist, walking turns to running and my vision eventually fades.

As the clock strikes 6 and the Yellow-haired, Tree-armed man's alarm goes off he rolls over into Tyler's embrace, only to find the cold. Assuming his love is downstairs he goes into the bathroom to shower only to be met with an ocean of blood on the floor.


End file.
